What I Had to Do

I can’t remember where I come from; I can’t remember my family or friends. I can’t remember my favorite pastimes or interests. In short: I have no memory.

So how did it get this way? I’ll let you know when I find out for myself.

I watch the news and hear ads. I see the propaganda. I can’t remember what I once knew or what I believed in. Who are the good guys and who are the bad? Can I trust the people who are taking care of me? They put lighters to the bottom of spoons and stick needles in their arms. They return gun-in-hand with a bloody cloth separating the weapon from their fingerprints. They are powerful; but are they good?

The news flashes before my eyes. Cops are murderers. Drugs should be legalized. Is it all that black and white? I meet a cop who claims to know me but I search and search and I cannot find any scrap of a memory of him. Can I trust him? Or do I run back to the spoons and needles and close my eyes to the deaths they cause?